


Hey, Sour Wolf

by qhuinn (tekla)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Inspired by Art, M/M, drunk!Stiles, inspired by gifset, it's tumblr's fault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 03:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/450765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tekla/pseuds/qhuinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this <a href="http://qhuinn.tumblr.com/post/26243444749/destielsextape-s-hey-sourwolf-af-kdhk-i">gifset</a> on tumblr.</p><p>Stiles is drunk and hitting on Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hey, Sour Wolf

“What are you doing?” Derek grunted out when he saw him.

For once in his life, Stiles didn’t speak. Instead, he just parted his legs, offering himself as he let all his arousal out, knowing Derek would sense it.

He had no idea where all this boldness was coming from. After all, he wasn’t _that_ drunk. But right now he couldn’t really find it in himself to care, so he just carried on with his genius plan. 

Derek stopped in his tracks, still far away enough from the bonfire to remain in shadows. And yet, just being a mere drunk human, Stiles could hear him growl. 

“So…” he teased. “You gonna stay there all mysterious, dark stranger in the woods at night like?” He made a pause, considering. “Creepy.” He shrugged. “And a bit hot, I’ll give you that. But it’d be even hotter if you came here!” He finished animatedly.

And as he was speaking, Stiles realized he was wasted after all. But who cared, right? His plan was flawless regardless.

“Dude, I’m drunk, okay?” he took his jacked off. “And you know what I mean, so just stop being so grumpy and come here.” He had his shirt off by the end of the sentence.

Derek didn’t move, though. He didn’t even seem to be breathing.

Stiles sat up and the world spinned around him. “Woah, man.” He was positive he was giggling but nah, it sure couldn’t be that bad.

“You know you’re really hot, right?” He blurted out. “I mean, you obviously do. You cannot not know. It’s not possible not to know. If someone knows you, they know you’re hot. Thus you must know, too. I bet you work out every day and have a full body mirror in that decrepit house of yours. No paint job for the walls, though.”

“Creeeeeeepy,” he sing songed cheerfully after a pause.

“Can’t blame you, though,” he continued, genius plan being a success. “I’d stare at the sight of you shirtless all day looooong if I could, too.”

He snorted and then started to laugh uncontrollably. “Oh man, I just imagined you, checking yourself out in the mirror with that sour face of yours and-” he couldn’t keep talking, he could barely breath.

“Where’s Scott?” Derek finally said over the sound of his laugher.

Stiles dismissed with his hands. “Out there, obsessing over Allison, or stalking her or chasing a rabbit or, I don’t know dude, doing anything but being here with me.”

And oh yes, he accompanied that final line with a magnificent pout. He was adorable, okay? And way wittier when drunk.

He went up on his feet, not very steadily, and started to unzip his pants. He was usually faster at this but he was drunk and that’s what happened when you were drunk, duh.

“Come ooooon Derek,” He half whined. “I’m willingly submitting my ass here, I thought you control freak werewolves were into that!”

“Stiles,” And suddenly Derek was right in front of him, gripping his hands so hard it was almost painful. “Stop it.”

Stiles frowned, looking at their hands together over his half unzipped pants in confusion; why wasn’t Derek helping him to take those off? Weren’t his werewolf super powers telling him what Stiles wanted?

“Stiles,” Derek called his name again to catch his attention.

Stiles looked up this time and saw Derek’s pupils dilating, the constantly changing color of his eyes disappearing under the black.

“When we do this,” Derek breathed out, “you won’t be drunk.”

Stiles stared at his lips for what felt like an overdue, tremendously long amount of time and then he snapped out, “Oh my god, you didn’t say _if_!”

And then, well Stiles might be drunk and everyone knew how drunk people tended to forget stuff, but Stiles knew he would never forget this.

And then, Derek smirked. Right before punching him in the face and knocking him out.


End file.
